


Eyeless Jack

by TheRavenistheWritingDesk



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6829522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRavenistheWritingDesk/pseuds/TheRavenistheWritingDesk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not an Origin story, this is just a story about Eyeless Jack. His life and his experiences. The way he views his world from my perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The cut was clean, never messy. The removal was an easy one. Jack held the organ gently before placing it in the jar he had brought with him. The scalpel was tucked away into his pocket, and he pulled out the spool of black thread, the needle tucked safely inside. He was almost finished, Jack leaned over carefully above the sleeping figure, as he stitched the cut closed.

Once he was finished, the spool and needle were back in his pocket, and he carefully lifted the jar, holding it close to him as he made his exit from the window. Though an object did catch his attention, causing him to pause and reach for it. It was small, to anyone else the object wasn't anything special, a piece to a board game, a small metal cat. To Jack though, it was fascinating.

Jack tucked the object into his pocket, along with the rest of his tools. Then he silently escaped through the window, he had to be careful so he didn't drop the jar.

The jar itself held little importance to him, it was the contents inside the jar that mattered. The young girls left kidney, she was his first victim since he came to this city. After a week of observing her nightly routines, and having memorized the layout of the inside of her home. He felt the time was right to begin his hunt. What had remained of his stash from the previous city was almost empty. His hunger would not be sated completely with what little was left.

It took some time, he passed through the small park to reach his destination. His pace beginning to slow, his grey hands never letting go of the jar he cradled close to his chest. Jack's gaze had fallen to the lake that sat in the center of the park. The sight was always soothing to him, the way the starlight reflected on the dark water. He sometimes thought he could hold the waters stars in his hands. Though the last time he tried he had fallen head first into the cold water. 

That didn't stop him from wondering what they would feel like.

His grip adjusted on the jar, and he resumed his walk. Moving down the darkened concrete path, the street lamps were always painful to him, the light made his sockets ache. It wasn't much longer, about thirty minutes and he reached his destination.

Jack needed to set the jar down for this part, so he did. Carefully moving so he didn't knock it over, he moved the leaves and branches that hid an old, rusting, abandoned storage container. His grey fingers removed the lock before he opened the rusted door, just enough to fit himself and the jar inside. He retrieved the jar and carried it inside, closing the door behind himself. Jack walked to the far end of the container, setting the jar down on the shelf that he had found there were two other jars that had already been there, waiting for his return.

He removed one of the older jars from its place on the shelf, moving onto the dirty mattress where he sat down. He didn't open it right away though, instead letting it balance comfortably on his lap. Jack removed the small metal cat from his hoodie pocket staring down at it. The metal felt cool against his grey fingers and he was familiar with the shape it was in. He had seen them on the streets at night.

"...Meow..." He mimicked the sound softly, his voice mostly muffled by the blue mask, lifting the metal cat up to stare at it. "...Meow..." He wondered if there was a story behind it. Did they have a love for cats? Did they own a cat? There were plenty of questions Jack could ask about the small object, there was no one who could answer him in this space though. "...Meow..."

Jack reached over and set the small figure down next to the mattress. It was the starting point of his collection. His attention shifted to the jar in his lap, his grey fingers brushed against the cold metal of the lid. Jack lifted one hand up to his ceramic mask, removing it carefully and setting it to the side on the stained mattress. It took both of his hands to open the jar, one to hold it still while the other removed the lid.

He set the lid off to the side, dipping his fingers into the preserving liquid, pulling out the liver that had been stored within. Jack brought the organ to his lips, and bit into it.


	2. Chapter 1

Jack stepped out of the storage container, the sky was nice and dark as it always was when he emerged. He couldn't handle the sunlight without feeling pain in the process. He turned his head, once to the left then to the right. He couldn't see anyone else as far as his gaze would reach. Jack began the process of closing the rusted door, placing the lock back into place before hiding it with the nearby foliage. The shadows from the surrounding trees always seemed to help in keeping it well hidden.

Jack nodded once he was satisfied with his efforts and he turned away from the well hidden container heading towards the park. Thirty minutes of silent walking he would come up to the cold lake. He wasn't in a hurry, he rarely was ever in a hurry. He was patiently waiting. _Will they notice the difference already? Will they be on edge until it was much later?_ These were the things Jack always thought about after the first night.

Jack had one more jar to feed from before he would take from them again. He could wait one more night before, he would feel the stirring under his skin. Tonight was an observation night. He needed to know the answers to his questions before he could continue. He stared at the lake, staring at the stars reflected in its dark surface. Such a cold light, Jack was enthralled by its beauty all the same. He stepped closer to it, extending his hand into the freezing liquid, attempting to cradle the shimmering light.

Jack watched the surface ripple causing those lights flicker off and on until he pulled his hand back. His fingers felt numb from the chilled water and he slipped his hand into his pocket for warmth. He moved back to the concrete path his feet making quiet thumps and thuds. He counted every step he took it was like a game for him, another thing he was learning. A number to follow a step, soon enough he was counting by two before movement caught his attention.

It wasn't fast, but it was enough that he noticed it from between the tree's, a tall figure in a suit. There was a name that was always there, one he knew. The figure wasn't a stranger to him. There were two others nearby the suited figure, one in a bright yellow hoodie, a familiar dark mask. The other wore a tan jacket with a bright white mask. Each one of them had a name, he knew them all, they were familiar to him. He stopped counting his steps, staring quietly towards them. _Should I speak up? Should I greet them? They seem focused on something, I shouldn't intervene._ That was the decision he chose to make, he was ready to resume walking once more. He had forgotten the number he had left off on so he was ready to count again.

That's when Jack's gaze fell on something else that caused him to pause. _Was a mirror placed in front of me while I was distracted?_ Jack pulled one hand from his pocket, reaching up and over to the mirror like mask. Jack had been expecting to feel cold glass against his grey fingertips like he had experienced so many times before. This was not what had happened though, instead a grip had wrapped around his fingers preventing him from touching the mask.

The hands weren't like his, they felt like leather and were like the shirt he wore underneath his hoodie. It took him a short time of staring at the hand to realize they were gloves. Jack didn't say anything though, he was slowly putting each piece of information together. He pulled his free hand out of his hoodie pocket, attempting to bring it closer to where the gloved grip held his fingers. He was comparing them now, the black gloves to grey limbs. Each piece slowly clicking into place. This was not a mirror, the figure was a real.

Jack moved his free hand closer to the gloved hand that held onto his, he wanted to know more about the figure and without using his words, words were always strange, and got in the way, he wanted to feel the differences, to learn through touch. He brushed the pads of his fingers against the dark leather, tracing the curve of the fingers hidden beneath it. Little thoughts of what he could feel coming to his mind, filling his thoughts completely. _Leather, dark, strong. Protection? Hiding something? Hiding what? Different, same? Not same, different. Strange different, not cold, warmer._

He watched the gloved grip finally release his fingers, his gaze shifting from the figure in front of him down to his own hands. The shapes were the same, yet his hands felt different. Jack was silent as he thought about that, there was a sense of danger but mostly it was curiosity. He brushed his fingers against his own mask, feeling the cold ceramic under his fingertips. His thoughts shifting in pathways he had trouble keeping pace with. _Is it the same underneath? Not a mirror, what do I do? Should I say something? It looks like me, is it a dream? No, not a dream, feels too real to be a dream._

"What are you?" _Voice, a voice, sounds familiar, not as soft. Also wants answers, I should answer it. _He paused, his circle of thoughts having gone silent for a moment before continuing. _What am I? Am I a dream? Am I real? Fake? Is there a word for me?_ __

"...Jack..." He answered after a long moment of silence, staring back at the familiar yet strange figure. There was a silence that followed his answer, strained and uncomfortable. Tension that tasted like rust to his tainted tongue. _Am I wrong? Did I answer the question wrong?_ The tension made him uncomfortable, he didn't like the rusted taste of it. _Discomfort, should I leave? How long have I been standing here?_ His gaze shifted away from the mirror like figure to look for the familiar three shapes he had seen earlier by the tree's. _Are they still there? Is time being distorted?_ He couldn't see them and when he turned back to see if the mirror like image was still there. _No one, gone, where?_ The question hung in the empty air.

_Alone, no, not alone._ He could feel eyes on him. Just not where they were watching him from. He stood still for awhile longer before he began walking again. He needed to make up the time he had lost. He was counting his steps once again. A silent song he heard only in his head. _Do they also count their steps?_ He was curious, _Will I see them again? Same, yet different._

After he reached step thirty-six, he was outside the window of his victims home. He climbed up carefully, sitting on the windowsill, watching her sleep. Nothing was different here that he could tell, same as before. _How long was I standing there?_ He looked the glowing numbers on the small dark clock. It was only ten, he was on time, she was following her routine.

Jack watched until the clock read ten-thirty pm, then he left. It was time to return home. That's what the container was to him, a temporary home. As he walked he noticed he was no longer being watched, he stopped beside the lake, attempting to touch the stars in its reflection again, before continuing on his way to the container. He crawled under the foliage this time, removed the lock, opened the door, and slid inside. He reached up and pulled the second jar down from the shelf, carefully removing the lid and removing the heart from the jar. He closed the jar, placing it back on the shelf, sitting on the mattress and removing his mask. _What am I?_ He sunk his sharp teeth into the organ.


	3. Chapter 2

Jack stared at the jar on his shelf. The remaining organ, it was time. He couldn't wait any longer. This time was different though, this time he picked up the messenger bag he had found in the previous city, tucking one of the empty jars inside of it. With his hands free he could do more without worrying. He exited the container, following his silent routine. Then through the park, walking to their house. He stood outside it for awhile, staring up at the window. He couldn't see movement yet, he looked up at the night sky, trying to tell the passage of time by the position of stars and his memories. _Not home?_

He moved around the house, _third day of the week. Right kidney_ , the thought of the organ made his mouth water. The black fluid leaking from the edges of his grey lips behind his mask. Jack would be patient though, making his way into the home through the side door, he didn't make a sound as he entered. Jack needed to be quiet, it made things easier for him. He still knew the layout, and he waited for the sound of her return from his spot. The silent counting game beginning once again.

He couldn't tell the time it was when the silence had been broken at last. It wasn't clear what was being said, he could tell it was a one-sided conversation. The voice, her voice was getting closer.

"I'm serious Becca! The doctors were stumped! I went to them like you told me to, showed them the stitches and they were fucking dumbfounded! They said they don't know what caused it but that if I wanted to know more they would have to make me go through tests that might lead to surgery! Surgery! I'm not even joking!" There was a pause, the conversation was moving to her room. "Yeah, no fucking thanks. I don't have that kind of money, no way! I'm not telling Billy about any of this! You better keep your mouth shut too Bec! If I hear that you told anyone what I told you I will disown you!" Another pause. "Damn right you'll keep quiet about this. Listen girlfriend, I'm exhausted and they want me back for another appointment a week from now. I'll talk to you tomorrow at work. Yeah, yeah, love you too." He could tell the conversation finally ended.

He waited awhile longer until he only heard silence from that room. Then Jack was on his feet, quietly making his way into the room. He made no noticeable sounds, the room silent beyond the girls breathing. He watched her sleeping form, counting her breaths, he waited until he reached ten and pulled the scalpel from his hoodie pocket. Jack worked carefully, each movement of the scalpels blade against her skin was clean and painless. He put the scalpel away afterward, opening his bag and the jar. He placed the kidney inside, then he stitched the open wound closed, before making his escape through the window.

This would be more difficult to continue doing, if the pattern was disturbed before the week was over he would need to alter his routine. He didn't like that thought, Jack moved through the streets again carefully, keeping to the darker parts away from the painful streetlamps, counting every step. Jack stopped by the lake, his hands sliding into the water. He watched as the blood was washed away under the reflected starlight. Jack could feel eyes on him again, though he didn't look to them this time. At least for awhile, until his hands were clean. He adjusted and finally looked to where he had felt the gaze on him coming from. _Nothing_

Jack decided to not return to the container until the gaze no longer followed his movements. It wasn't long, and soon he was able to re-enter his home without feeling watched. He removed the jar from his bag and set it on the shelf. Then he laid out on the stained mattress, removing his mask. He stared at the ceiling of the container, his thoughts circling the sensation of being watched. The gaze had felt familiar to him. His thoughts then shifted to the odd experience the night before, _watching me? What am I?_ His eyelids closed, he could still feel the black substance sliding down his grey cheeks from his empty sockets.


	4. Chapter 3

Jack emerged from the container, carrying the bag with him as he made his way towards the park. His skin felt colder, he had chosen not to feed the previous night, he wanted to wait until he had more, waiting was the right thing to do in his situation. How long could he wait for though? He didn't know the answer to that question. His steps didn't slow down this time as he passed the beautiful lake. He was counting in his mind, every step he took towards his destination had been assigned a number. The house was still, he could tell from the window. He tilted his head up to look at the position of the stars in the night sky, as if they would answer his silent questions.

_She should be home,_ he moved around to the side door quickly and quietly opening it. She hadn't locked it yet, she wasn't aware of the layout completely yet, this was a good sign. Jack's silent steps carried him up to the room, pulling lockpicks from his hoodie pocket. He lowered himself just enough, picking the lock on the door before slipping inside. Jack moved quietly, avoiding some scattered papers that had been tossed about. _Anger? Frustration? Fear?_ Feelings he knew would follow the previous night, he could read them in the darkness, medical reports. _Doctors, fear? Confusion?_ The lockpicks were returned to his pocket, and he opened the bag before pulling the scalpel from the same pocket. He knew the position, and how to angle the blade just right. The cuts were clean, he was silent, it would be painless. He opened the jar and gently slid the pancreas inside. He stitched the open wound closed and made his escape through the window.

He had been successful tonight as well, the pattern hadn't been disturbed. Jack's pace had slowed, calmer than before, had he been on edge? He didn't understand where the tension had gone. The park was within his sights now, he was almost home.

"What are you?" Jack's steps paused just as he stepped into the park. _Eyes, familiar, voice, familiar, question, familiar._ He slowly turned around to look towards the mirroring mask.

"...Jack..." He answered again, it was the only answer he had. The rust flavored tension returned, Jack shifted from one foot to the other, _left, right, left, discomfort._ He didn't like this tension. "...I don't know, what I am..." He finally admitted, "...I'm Jack, that's what I know..." words, they felt wrong sometimes, it was always difficult for him to find the words to express the thoughts that ran through his head. Jack stared back at him, a question forming in his throat. "...Are you Jack?..."

"Of course I'm Jack. I'm the only Jack. That's why I want to know...What _you_ are. You're not me." Jack was quiet, his thoughts felt scattered with that answer, each time he tried to reach for an answer it slipped through his fingers like sand.

"...Same name, same mask. No, different, too different. Real? Fake? Dreaming? No, not a dream. Wrong, wrong. It's wrong." He felt completely on edge again, and he turned away from him, "...Wrong, wrong, wrong. Rust, wrong..." sprinting past the lake. Away from the other Jack, away from the park. He was grateful he wasn't stopped, he wanted to hide, to return home and hide away, to escape the taste of rust.

Jack ducked under the foliage, slipping into the container and he stood within that darkness. Letting the silence sink into his senses, the darkness soothing him. Jack carefully removed the jar from his bag and set it on the shelf by the other two. He tugged off his mask gently, not wanting to break it as he sat down. Jack laid his cheek against his knee, he was shaking and he couldn't figure out why. _What am I?_ The question started to taste like the rusted tension that had sat between them. He closed his sockets, and tried to forget.


End file.
